Mickey D's; Why I Hate Thee.

My friend Alyce just published this wonderfully succinct piece and it reminded me that I have been meaning to publish my gripe with McDonald's. Like most American kids of my era, Mickey D's was a treat to me. It was some place that you got to go once in a blue moon. That is definately not the case today. I have a real problem with the all-pervasiveness of the McD's culture.


I hate the fact that they have a dollar menu. This sort of thing lures people into thinking that it is a good thing to have highly inexpensive food. I don't think it is inexpensive at all. I think it comes with a very high price tag in terms of environmental issues, wages and animal cruelty.


I hate the tremendous amount of waste they generate. Sure, you can get a decent looking salad, but you have atleast four disposable items that come along with it.


I hate that they are doing this whole McCafe thing. Cripes, the coffee shop is practically the last frontier of the American Mom & Pop. Will they be doing book shops and laundrettes next?


I hate their service. Their set-up breeds automatons.

Exhibit A:
Last year, while traveling, I tried to get a plain, unsweetened iced coffee. First off, the young man who waited on me couldn't count to save his life and was so confused by the fact that I handed him a five and the correct change that he entered the amount wrong and handed my change back a dollar short. A manager had to be called who also had difficulty figuring out that I was to be handed one more dollar. Then, I realized that the coffee was sweetened. I was completely unsuccessful in getting an unsweetened coffee or a manager and I finally left absolutely disgusted and drove around an unfamiliar town until I found a Mom & Pop cafe that had no problem with my coffee or counting.

Exhibit B:
A couple of months ago, my dad wanted to go to McD's for lunch. I managed to steer him towards the healthiest food on the menu, but was derailed at the last second. When I asked for a cup for iced tea for my dad, this woman practically yelled "Sweet Tea?" at us and plopped a special cup in front of my dad. Thanks for suggesting that my diabetic dad should have a bunch of sugar, ass. Also, it was the same size cup I'd received for my plain old iced tea. But, you can't do promos without a special styrofoam cup, can you?


I shouldn't be complaining. Every time I step foot into one, they do me the favor of reminding me that they are a bastion of mediocrity and that I really need to go somewhere else.